


If You Lose Yourself (I Will Find You)

by Abbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Brainwashing, Gen, Tommy Merlyn is Alive, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy Merlyn is not a monster, no matter what they tried to reshape him into. Felicity helps to remind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Lose Yourself (I Will Find You)

**Author's Note:**

> I clearly have a Tommy-comes-back-broken AU problem. Prompted/first sentence by notababoonbrandishingastick (Ferggirl).

"Look me in the eyes and say that again."

 

Felicity crouched in front of Tommy, her hands on his heaving shoulders, sweat dampening the cotton t-shirt under her palms. His head was bowed as he sucked in gasping breaths, little whining noises escaping his clenched teeth as he exhaled. His fists braced his weight on the floor almost close enough to brush Felicity’s purple, peep-toed heels.

Trying to project confidence and calm, Felicity licked her lips and slid a hand up the back of Tommy’s neck, her fingernails tickling the short hairs at his nape. “Tommy.”

He lifted his head, his eyes drowning pools of despair and tortured echoes as he looked at her. She slipped her hand around to cup his jaw, thumb stroking along his cheekbone, drawing him up out of the nightmares, anchoring him in the corner of the guestroom with her. “Look at me. Say it again.”

He inhaled hard, lashes fluttering in a long blink as he exhaled slow, some of the tension in his shoulders easing as he reached up to cover her hand with his. When he opened his eyes, he was finally _looking_ at her, and there was a hint of determined steel behind the blue. “I’m not what they made me. I’m _not_ a monster.”

His voice was raw, graveled from screaming, rough like sandpaper on her ears. Felicity swallowed hard and stroked his cheek again. “No, you are _not_. You’re Tommy Merlyn. You’re a best friend. You’re a brother, and a protector, and a _good man_.”

He searched her gaze, and whatever he saw there, he sighed like she’d given him relief, cold water in the desert. His forehead dropped against her knees, his hand leaving hers to curl just above her right knee, like he needed to hold onto her or risk slipping back down into the darkness that had been poured into him.

Felicity slid her arms over his back and rested her cheek against his hair, holding him together until he could do it himself. “You’re a good man, Tommy. You keep choosing to be a good man every day. It’s the only thing that matters.”

"I can choose," he muttered into her shins, more to himself than to her.

They held onto each other for a long, quiet, breathing moment, Felicity’s hand moving up and down a steady path between his shoulder blades as Tommy resettled into his own bones.

Shifting to rest her chin against Tommy’s crown, Felicity smiled a little and said, “Oliver’s coming by in a little while. He wants to go through a few routines with you, if you think you’re up to it.” Tommy hesitated, then nodded, his nose bumping her knees. He made no move to pull away from her just yet.

Felicity bit her lip, then, hopeful, said, “Laurel wants to call, later. She wants to—to try just talking to you. On the phone, see if that works, with all of the resistance training you’ve been doing. Oliver and Sara think it could be a good idea, see how much progress you’ve made?”

Tommy was very still in her arms, then slowly started to sit up, forcing her to let go of him. He put both hands on her knees, squeezing as he looked at her, grim and uncertain. “What if I go off again? What if I can’t even—can’t even talk to her without going into Terminator mode?”

Felicity licked her lips, but nodded her chin just slightly, acknowledging his fears. “Then we deal with it. Oliver and Roy will be here when she calls, you know, in case of,” she made a face that was supposed to be threatening, but it just made Tommy huff a little laugh, his mouth curling in almost reluctant amusement. Felicity grinned back at him. “It could be _good_ , Tommy. You might have made real progress, but we don’t know until we test it, right?”

He sighed, then nodded.

Her smile softened, her hands squeezing where they rested on his shoulders—for balance, for comfort. “She misses you.”

Tommy looked away. “I tried to kill her, Felicity. _Twice_.”

Felicity winced, squinting over his head as if the wall behind him had answers for how to handle broken men programmed to kill their ex-girlfriends. “She totally forgives you for that, though.”

Tommy snorted, cutting a sarcastic look at her. She just smiled.

"She knows it wasn’t _you_ , Tommy.” She shook her head, holding his eyes as the ends of her ponytail bounced across her shoulder. “It wasn’t _you_.”

His mouth twisted bitterly, eyes falling to his fingers on her bare knees. “Really? Because those were definitely my fingerprints decorating her throat.”

Felicity huffed a little growl, taking hold of his jaw with both hands and drawing his face up to look at her. “That was _not your choice_ , Tommy. You’re not what they tried to make you _be_. We just covered this.”

He took her hands, curling his fingers gently around hers and resting them both in his grip atop her knees. “Just because we keep saying it doesn’t make it true, Felicity.” He held her gaze, imploring, swallowing hard, and she knew what he was saying to her was… difficult to share. “I’m not—I don’t… it’s not like I, like I’m just _gone_ when I’m triggered, Felicity. I’m not empty. I’m _in here_ ,” he lifted one of his hands, hers still wrapped in it, and tapped his temple, before returning them to her knee. “I’m just not in control. It’s like getting shoved in the backseat of my own brain. There’s something else behind the wheel but I can still see out the windshield. I don’t get to pull the brakes, or take my foot off the gas, I just get to watch the wreck go up in flames.”

Felicity nibbled her bottom lip. “That’s a very… specific metaphor.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and frowned at her, squeezing her hands. “I watched it, Felicity. I saw myself choking the life out of her, the first time. She was crying, begging me to stop, struggling to breathe, and _my hands kept squeezing_.” He looked down at those very hands, so much larger as they cradled Felicity’s. His thumbs stroked over her knuckles absently, his head shaking. “Wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.”

Felicity swallowed, eyes squeezing briefly shut as she shook her head sharply. Turning her hands in his, she pressed palm to palm and interlaced their fingers, squeezing for all she was worth. “But the next time, you came back, before you could pull the trigger. You got back in the driver’s seat, took the wheel, whatever.”

He scoffed in the back of his throat, still staring at their fingers. “Because you _slapped me_ , Felicity.” He lifted his eyes, and there was fear and anger—and gratefulness, too—in them even now. “You stood in front of the _fucking gun_ and you _slapped me_.”

Felicity lifted her eyebrows imperiously, tugging his hands as if she could physically drag him into believing in himself. “But the first time, you couldn’t come back to yourself at all! You had to be knocked out. Me slapping you wasn’t a—an off switch, or a magic trick. It was just an opportunity, a shock to the system that gave you the chance to take control. And you _did._ And you didn’t shoot me, you didn’t shoot Laurel. You popped the clip out of the gun and gave it back to Diggle.”

His eyes dropped again, but the lines of his face had softened, though still solemn. He was considering her argument.

Felicity smiled again and impulsively leaned forward to bump her forehead against Tommy’s. When she sat back on her heels again, he was looking at her with the usual amusement. “So, can I text Laurel and tell her she can call around five?”

He held her eyes for a moment, then let his lashes sweep down to hood them as he sighed, resigned. “Yeah. Yeah, tell her I’d… tell her I’m looking forward to it.”

Felicity beamed in triumph, standing up and pulling on his hands to haul him to his bare feet with her. “I will. She’s going to be  _thrilled_.”

He shook his head—he always seemed to be shaking his head at her—lips curling as if against his will as he extracted his fingers from hers. He hesitated just before letting go, fingertips still curling against hers, just that simple, slight grip keeping her from turning and bouncing out into the house. “Will you…”

She smiled wider up at him, only a few inches shorter with him flat footed and her in heels. She dropped his hands, but he had only time to suck in a sharp breath before she stepped into his space and pulled up against him, arms circling his ribs in a sudden, tight hug.

He had barely wrapped his own arms around her shoulders before she was slipping out of them again, her warmth still seeping into his chest as she moved towards the door, hand finding the frame. “I’ll be there.”


End file.
